


Levi's dog

by Auurii, KatrinaRice



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Vampire Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Vampires, Werewolf Erwin Smith, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auurii/pseuds/Auurii, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrinaRice/pseuds/KatrinaRice
Summary: Heading to his coven near daybreak, Levi stumbles across a helpless creature and has to make a grave decision. One that goes against every fibre of his vampiric nature. And then again, it doesn’t. Because Levi values life.Everylife.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	Levi's dog

**Author's Note:**

> Dear everyone,
> 
> welcome to our first proper cooperation! We are very excited to share the start of this fantasy fic with you today. [Katrina](https://twitter.com/Katrina__Rice) does the writing, [Auri](https://twitter.com/regularbrot) does the art - and we dream and plot together, and honestly: It's just so much fun. And because we want to keep it this way, we ask you to be kind and patient. This story is not done yet. We have completed two chapters, chapter 3 is in the making, and we are taking our sweet time with writing and illustrating it as well as the rest. We will finish this at some point, though please note that we cannot give you an exact publishing date. We hope that you will enjoy the beginning of the fic nonetheless, knowing that the rest will follow in time.
> 
> We will be posting chapter 2, as soon as chapter 3 is done.  
> Auri will be posting the art on Twitter. It will be embedded in the fic and you will always find a link to the original tweet in the notes below the chapters.
> 
> We would be delighted, if you would share your thoughts and feelings in forms of comments here - they are the only type of "payment" we receive; and a huge motivation to write and draw faster ;)
> 
> And of course: Follow us on Twitter for updates, and to never miss an amazing piece of art from Auri!
> 
> Katrina + Auri

He's nothing more than a shadow speeding through the night, or what remains of it. Sunrise is near and with it the imminent death of a vampire. Yet Levi remains calm, a light smile still painted on his pale face as he moves through the city at full speed. 

A fine night lies behind him, hours filled with lavish drinks, with ripe, deep-red wine and sweet champagne to pleasant conversations and old dances to the music of human prodigies long turned to dust. Levi saw them perform, watched them compose and create the world’s still most famous pieces in the 17th century – Monteverdi, Bach, Vivaldi, Handel. Ah, how he loved those times, devoid of any form of modern technology, devoid of any distractions, people’s senses focussed only on each other, the only form of communication that of a face-to-face exchange or beautifully written letters with ink. 

The Baroque society organising historically accurate events such as this one was one of the main reasons for Levi to choose Bad Todtmahr to be his coven’s new home. A medium-sized city at the heart of the Black Forest in the southwest of Germany. A mountainous region bordering France with dense, evergreen, nearly untouched forests and picturesque villages strewn all over – inspiration to the Brothers Grimm, as legend has it. And Levi is not at all surprised as he flies through a particular part of the woods yet to be explored by him, now merely chosen for a quicker route to their secluded old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, the dark trees all around him surrounded by fog definitely fuelling human imagination with all sorts of mystical and monstrous fantasies – and ah, if only they knew that _some_ of their nightmares and tales were true...

Suddenly, a faint but enduring sickly-sour and faintly sweet scent invades Levi’s nostrils, making the vampire stop dead in his tracks on top of a huge tree, scouting the area with his enhanced, undead eyes. 

Werewolf territory. 

Primitively marked. 

“Fuck,” Levi whispers – but the pack is not around, their nightly runs seemingly ended a few hours back.

Usually, Levi would turn back, find his way around the grounds in the possession of a possible enemy. But he does not have the time. The clock is ticking and everything inside of him is yelling at the raven-haired vampire – forever trapped in the body of a twenty-five-year old man – to run towards the darkness of his cave and shield himself from the rising sun. 

Gritting his teeth, Levi’s sharp fangs coming out almost naturally upon taking in the werewolf scent, he rockets off the thick branch, pushes himself to fly through the air even faster than before, jumping from branch to branch with ease and elegance at a speed the human mind and eye could not process. Until the vampire nearly loses his balance as an _intense_ fragrance fills his nose. 

It’s almost like a perfume, freshly used in a dosis not recommended; as if someone had just poured the whole bottle over their head, _bathed_ in it.

It’s the smell of blood.

Of _werewolf_ blood.

And immediately, Levi can tell that this male werewolf is not a member of the pack ruling over this part of the forest. Which is probably the _cause_ of his blood pouring out of that werewolf body somewhere down below, oozing into the damp earth underneath. The creature is still alive. Or barely so. Levi, now focussed, can hear the beating of the wolf’s heart. It’s erratic. It’s fast. It’s the rhythm of despair and freight. A composition of inevitable death. And something strange tugs at Levi’s undead heart, makes him hesitate. 

The vampire has two options: Leave the wolf to die alone and his corpse to be found by members of his pack looking for him at some point – or show mercy and put the wolf out of his misery. And he needs to make his decision fast, the smell of the vast amount of blood driving him nearly _insane_. Because it’s the aroma of a forbidden, seemingly sweet, fresh fruit, ready to be ripped off its tree and devoured, easing the thirst and hunger. 

But: Werewolf blood is poison to a vampire – making it smell so unbelievably good is the universe’s punishment for its unnatural existence.

“Fuck,” Levi whispers again. 

Then, he makes his decision. 

Swiftly, he jumps off the tree, his feet hitting the ground without any sound. And when he takes the first look at the injured werewolf in a man’s shape laying on the ground and looking up at him, Levi cannot understand what happens. For the pair of azure eyes, that must have been stunning already when the man was human, are now breathtaking, the supernatural shades of blue visible in the mere light of the moon, stirring and moving like the waves of a deep ocean, _glowing_ , pulling Levi in immediately, making him feel the urge to plunge himself into the deep pit of the water promising refreshment and so much more.

When the creature’s own scent mixes even more with the fragrance of his blood pouring out of the wound on his stomach, clearly caused by the claws of another werewolf, Levi realises that the blond wolfman, in the middle of his human twenties, is _young_ in supernatural terms. And there is something else which is peculiar about that werewolf: He is not afraid of Levi. Because there is no fear, no disgust, no hatred in those fascinatingly beautiful blue eyes that would normally be there when a werewolf would be looking at a vampire.

And the blond’s own scent is… alluring. Even more than his blood. A scent that would probably not make you lose control, but that would make you feel… _comfortable_.

“C-Can you... help me?” the werewolf suddenly utters. He sounds weak. He sounds pleading. His voice like tainted honey. “P-Please…” he breathes out, torment and despair audible, once again tugging at Levi’s heart, making the vampire clench his fists. And while he knows that putting the wolf out of his misery would probably be the smart and right thing to do, he can’t bring himself to it.

“Shit,” Levi whispers, taking a look at the sky about to turn red with the rising sun, making his next decision, a whine coming out of the werewolf’s mouth as Levi picks his wounded body up with his inhuman strength, a body nearly twice the size of the vampire, and proceeds to rush to his coven.

*****

The sun begins to rise just a second after the heavy new door with safety locks falls shut behind them – and the other vampires instantly appear in the big hall of the entrance of the old, freshly renovated farmhouse, eyes wide, fangs bared, ready to strike, ready to kill, drawn forth by the invading smell of werewolf blood tainting Levi’s strong arms, the creature it belongs to barely conscious. 

“Stop,” Levi tells them, and his children oblige, suddenly frozen statues, merely staring at their maker and coven leader. “I need to treat his wounds immediately. Otherwise he will die. So let me through.”

“It’s a _werewolf_ , Levi!” Mike protests, nearly snarling at the young pup in human form, who releases another whine, his eyes closed, his body weak.

“I’m aware of that,” Levi deadpans.

“Wh-what?” the bearded giant stammers, completely out of it. Shocked and annoyed. A little bit terrified, too.

“Are you serious?” Farlan joins in the protest, gesturing wildly with his arms, and Levi simply nods, making the fair-haired scoff. “So what: you found it like that? Or did it fight with you?"

“I found him in this state.”

Farlan is gesturing with his arms, too agitated to reply. Until he does. “Just fucking kill it, it’s almost dead anyway!”

“Just like you were when I found _you_. Remember?” Levi counters calmly. Even though he is not calm at all. 

Farlan scoffs again, yet remains silent after that reminder. It’s Mike who speaks up again, with Hange and Isabel just watching with their mouths slightly open in confusion. And also, in fascination.

“Levi, for fuck’s sake, you’re bringing in our enemy? A killer? He’s gonna try to bite us to death the moment he recovers!” Mike continues to protest. “Maybe it’s a fucking trap! Maybe his pack left him for you to find him and bring him into our home so he can attack us from the inside. Just end this miserable existence now!”

“Just like I should have ended _yours_ when I found you, _killer_?” Levi raises a brow at the huge vampire with shaggy blond, nearly ashen hair, who immediately opens his mouth to object weakly. But Levi cuts him off, his voice loud and booming now, commanding. “Enough!” he orders – and Mike shuts up. “My decision is made. I will treat his wounds now; _then_ , we can talk. Hange, clear the kitchen table. Now.”

“Yes!” the vampire with huge goggles pushed into their long messy hair responds and speeds off to the respective room used for their experiments and the storage of wine – because why would a vampire need to cook? Two seconds later, Levi puts the unconscious young werewolf on top of the cleared, wooden surface and Hange assists him in shedding the wolfman’s clothing to ease their work. 

“We need to stop the bleeding,” Levi says, and Hange nods. Then, they work in silence. Swiftly. Both fighting the urge to lick the nicely smelling blood. Patching the main wound up, the long-haired vampire applying a paste of herbs, which they grow out of habit of times long lost, to accelerate the healing process. 

“He has a fever,” Hange says, Isabel appearing with a wet cloth just a second later to put it onto the blond man’s head.

“I’ll watch him,” the red-haired vampire, turned when she was merely 17 years old, says to the coven leader. “You go talk.”

“Thank you, dear,” Levi tells her, nodding curtly before he leaves the room.

He and the rest of the coven meet in their shared living room, around the fireplace. But no one’s watching the flames. 

“Why?” Mike asks, and doesn’t have to specify what he’s talking about.

“Pity,” Farlan answers instead of Levi, his voice full of spite and resentment.

“I’d rather say _madness_ ,” Mike scoffs.

“Maybe you’re both right,” Levi finally joins the conversation.

“He’s young,” Hange suddenly remarks, “that wolf. A puppy.”

“What about its maker? Its alpha? Won’t the alpha come after _the puppy_?” Farlan wonders, agitated, toxic.

“I clearly doubt that,” Levi responds, looking into the eyes of the fair-haired vampire glaring at him.

“And what makes you doubt that? Don’t tell me it’s a gut feeling…”

“It’s not,” his raven-haired maker assures. “I found him on hostile territory, part of a forest belonging to a different pack. The other wolves probably felt threatened and pissed off and attacked him, you know how territorial they are. The thing is: He should not have been there, Farlan. You know that alphas never leave their pups, and this one is young, just like Hange said. Probably not even a month old, maybe turned only one or two weeks ago. He should not be out on his own. Werewolves are protective of their fledglings.”

“So… What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that this is the first case of an abandoned werewolf puppy I have come across.”

“Oh my,” Hange mutters, unable to mask their excitement despite the shared shock.

Silence follows and Levi watches Mike roll his eyes at last, deprived of the many things he’d have to say due to the facts presented. “It’s… Are you sure his maker wasn’t lurking round the corner or something?” the big vampire finally utters.

“Are you doubting my senses?”

“N-no, I mean… It’s still a _werewolf_ , Levi.”

“I told you already: I’m very aware of that. But a life is a life, and when I can save one, you know I will try to do so.”

Mike sighs, as does Farlan. “So… we’re keeping him?” Hange dares to ask, yet again unable to hide their elation.

“Only until the wolf is back on its feet!” Farlan demands. “Promise me, Levi. You can nurse it back to health, if you want to get your hands dirty on that filthy dog so much, all right. But the thing is leaving our house once it’s healed.”

“Promise,” Mike joins the harsh plea, a desperate demand, and even though the male vampires won’t admit it, Levi understands that they are simply _scared_ of having a werewolf this close to them, sleeping under the same roof.

“I promise,” he thus agrees. “The wolf will leave the coven once he has completely recovered.”

“Okay…” Farlan and Mike mutter almost at the same time, exchanging a certain relieved look, while Hange merely nods, smirking lightly. 

Isabel’s eyes meet Levi’s as the coven leader enters the kitchen together with Hange. “Do you think he’ll make it?” the girl asks him as he steps closer.

“I’m not sure,” Levi replies, eyes wandering over the human body that isn’t human anymore, the huge wound that will take time to heal, “but I sure hope so.”

“Do you want him to stay _here_ during the day?” Hange requires, smearing some more of their herbal paste onto the bloodied seam of the wolf’s stomach. 

“No. I’ll take him up to _my_ room. He’s _my_ responsibility,” Levi explains his decision, not adding that he wants to take away some of the fear from his children by locking himself in with the wolf.

Hange and Isabel drag the spare bed into their maker’s chamber with ease and then help him in transporting the injured wolf upstairs without hurting him too much. “We need food for him,” Levi states as he pulls a blanket over the naked body and Isabel plants a new, cold, wet cloth on the blond’s forehead. 

“I’ll cook a broth tomorrow,” Hange declares.

“You can cook?” Isabel teases, earning a playful smack on her shoulder.

“My cuisine was legendary.”

“Too legendary,” is all that Levi says, “now go lie down and rest. The sun is up.” 

The two vampires leave their maker’s quarters, and only then Levi realises how much he needs to rest himself. But worry keeps him up. And that memory of the azure eyes gazing up at him so pitifully in the forest.

“What happened to you…?” he murmurs, wiping away some of the water from the cloth trickling down the werewolf’s cheek. 

His skin is hot. Nearly searing. And soft. Like a baby’s.

Because this werewolf is just that. A puppy.

Levi sighs. Then, he lies down and falls asleep with his head turned towards the wolf.

7

*

For the first time in many hundred years, Levi dreams. He dreams of his home long gone. He dreams of his mother’s smile. Levi dreams about riding his horse along the coast of their village. Everything is vivid, he can clearly see it, touch it, feel it, the light breeze ruffling his mare’s mane and his own dark strands. He can taste the apple he used to share with his animal. He can smell it, the seawater stretching out in front of him. 

But there’s one particular fragrance that stands out, that enhances the beauty of his memories in a strange but appealing way – a scent so pleasant, of lilacs and lilies, a scent of cookies taken freshly out of the oven, and vanilla, a scent of burning wood and new books, a scent of old wine. It’s that scent that has Levi melting in his dream, has him falling asleep in the meadow, as he’s breathing it in, has him smiling, the laughter of his mother calming him down and filling his chest with warmth; a sensation he hasn’t felt for many thousand years. And when he wakes up, the smile of his dream still on his face, the scent does not disappear.

It lingers.

Levi opens his eyes, startled, alerted, a little bit confused. And then he breathes it in again. That scent, that fragrance – and he understands, though he doesn’t. 

With a snap of his fingers the thick curtains part and the electrical shutters begin to open, the light of the moon illuminating the room as Levi walks across it to the other bed, to the werewolf emitting the sweet and pleasurable fragrance, now mixing only faintly with the smell of his dried blood. And while that made Levi and the other vampires as well feel hungry and agitated, this smell is just making him feel… at ease.

It’s nice, beautiful. Adding to his general well-being. And Levi wonders whether it’s because this werewolf is so young. Because usually the scent of the wolf-people would not have this effect on him. In fact, some of their kind have smelled like wet dogs panting heavily, simply disgusting, making Levi even feel slightly nauseous. But he’s never met a werewolf this young before.

He’ll have to talk about this with Hange. And he will do that. Later. Because for now he needs to take care of this odd pup. As he does so, a wave of relief passes through the vampire’s body. For it seems that the fever has gone down. Slightly at least. The blond wolf-man’s skin is still hot, but not searing anymore. A good sign. Probably.

Levi sighs, leaving his chamber to fetch a bowl with fresh water and a cloth. Farlan is waiting for him in the corridor, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is it still alive?” 

“Yes,” Levi answers calmly, “ _he_ is still alive.”

“Great.” Farlan does not sound happy.

“Are you going out?”

“None of your fucking business,” he growls – and disappears within a second into thin air, running off at vampire speed, making Levi roll his eyes.

“Spiteful child,” the raven-haired mutters to himself, shaking his head lightly, forgetting about this emotional outburst nonetheless immediately. Because he truly understands where Farlan’s coming from; the scepticism, the fear of the wolf, the wish to keep their coven, their little family safe. He really does. But Farlan needs to understand where Levi’s coming from, too. 

He lights some candles, because even if the house is stuffed with modern technology so loved by Hange especially, Levi prefers some things done the old ways – though he _does_ use his smartphone linked to the high quality sound system set up in his room to play Vivaldi’s _Nisi Dominus_. But candles are always the more appropriate choice when it comes to lighting a room. Maybe it’s because of the warmth they exude. Maybe it’s because their light colour is generally more pleasant. Maybe it’s because Levi’s spent more time of his eternal life using candles as a source of light than their electrical descendants.

“All right,” he murmurs, disposing of the cloth spread across the werewolf’s forehead, studying his face in detail for the first time, as he wipes it with a new wet cloth, getting rid of the wolf’s sweat as well as some residues of mud and minimal blood spatters, laying the soft skin underneath it completely bare. 

The wolf’s big bushy eyebrows stand out. His nose is huge as well, though not ugly. Levi believes that in some parts of his undead life people would have described it as an aristocratic feature. The blond eyelashes are thick, matching the top hair of the werewolf. It’s messy, just like Hange’s. Long, reaching the wolf’s shoulders, and uncombed, with a few small twigs and leaves woven in between the strands that haven’t been washed for a few days. Levi wrinkles his nose as he begins to pick out all the foreign items out of it and the smell of the slightly oily strands finally hits him. However, the other scent, the nice wolf-scent, is still prevalent; and Levi’s glad about that. Glad and confused. Intrigued. Contented, too.

Levi’s gaze roams over the strong jaw and chiselled cheekbones that look as if they could deflect a bullet as he wipes the cloth over the wolf’s human face. “You need a shave,” the vampire whispers, letting his own fingers glide over the very prominent stubble that will very soon turn into a beard. 

Overall, the blond is a very… _hairy_ man. 

It’s not an astonishing discovery Levi makes, since this is a werewolf, after all, and some traits of their beast side transfer onto their human form as well. And maybe this one has always been this hairy? It’s still remarkable, though. 

There are tufts of blond, thick hair covering the man’s well-trained, manly chest. More of it thatches his arms and sprouts on the back of his hands. There are downright nests of it under his armpits, as Levi finds out when he lifts the man’s arms up to clean the werewolf properly. There used to also be a lot of hair on the wolf’s flat stomach, and maybe it will grow back once the damage inflicted by those werewolf claws has healed, Levi ponders as he disinfects the stitched wound once again, renewing the layer of herbal paste made by Hange, before he lifts the cover up to continue cleaning the wolf. 

And Levi can’t help but stare at the thick thighs, all bulgy muscles covered by a layer of skin and a mat of that astonishing blond hair, that does not look and does not feel frizzy, but ultra-soft. Those thighs just add to the overall attractiveness of the man, and Levi’s eyes try resolutely to avoid the literal bush of thick blond hair at the werewolf’s groin and his impressive male endowments. 

He fails.

That is why he is almost glad when he feels Hange’s presence coming nearer. “Want to give me a hand?” he asks them even before they manage to knock on the door, entering just a second later to stand on the other side of the bed with a wet cloth in their hands.

“The wound looks good,” they say, staring at it for a while before beginning to clean the werewolf’s other leg, “I mean: It’s still deep and obviously he’s still in severe pain, but I think we might have a chance of saving his life.”

Levi nods, having already come to the same conclusion. “Thank you,” he tells his vampire child, who is more of a companion, once they are done and he pulls the cover over the werewolf. That’s the moment Isabel nearly crashes back into their domicile, flying up the stairs to burst into the room. Levi doesn’t even have the chance to admonish her softly about not knocking, because she’s talking to him even before she’s fully in the room.

“Look what I got for wolfy,” she exclaims, pointing to the I.V. pole which she just pushes into the room, with several infusion bags attached to it.

“Oh, excellent!” Hange calls out, clapping their hands. “Since he’s still passed out, he won’t be able to eat my broth just yet. This is perfect, sister!”

Isabel wiggles her brows at Levi, grinning like a hyena. The raven-haired sighs. “Where did you get that?”

“From the hospital, obviously – but don’t worry: I didn’t steal it from someone who was hooked up to it. It’s from the storage area, nobody suffers because I took it, all right? And wolfy really needs it.”

“Wolfy…” Levi repeats Isabel’s pet name for the man in his care with a little bit of disbelief, rolling his eyes slightly, but also unable to suppress a grin. Because despite her fear of the werewolf, Isabel is really trying to support Levi, is really trying to help and come to terms with the fact that the creature will stay with them for a while.

“He needs a name!”

“And he will tell it to us, once he’s woken up,” Levi asserts. 

“Till then I’ll call him wolfy.”

“Fine,” Levi agrees, letting Isabel insert the IV – and the brief scent of the werewolf blood filling the room makes all three vampires flinch slightly; because it’s just too good. “Have you fed yet?” Levi asks, realising his own hunger tearing at his throat.

Hange and Isabel nod, clearly relaxed again. But Levi isn’t. Because he hasn’t fed for a couple of days. He had planned to do it yesterday, but was way too caught up in drinking wine and dancing with charming human men and women at the Baroque ball.

“We’ll watch him,” Hange tells him, sensing her maker’s needs and desires through their unique connection.

“Thank you.” With this, Levi rushes out of the house, straight towards the city. 

He feeds on a young man after satisfying his carnal desires, the urge to fuck suddenly so strong, he can’t suppress it. Of course, the man lives, Levi’s fangs sinking into his jugular left as a memory of creating a deep hickey in the man’s bewitched mind by the powerful vampire.

Levi doesn’t kill his prey. Humans aren’t just blood bags to him. Not only because he enjoys conversing and interacting with them like he did yesterday. After all, he was once human, too. As was every vampire. And he hates those of his kind who think differently. Which doesn’t mean that Levi _hasn’t_ killed people before. In fact, he still does. Sometimes. When they deserve it. And this young man certainly does not, after his exceeding services concerning the lower half of the body.

He returns home to find not only Hange and Isabel in his room, but also Mike, standing at the bed and staring down at the werewolf with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks up at Levi as he enters the room. 

“He’s not dead yet,” the giant comments while Levi discards his leather jacket. 

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Hange giggles. That’s when Farlan returns to the coven and also walks up to join the other vampires in Levi’s room. 

“Hey…” he says, eyes transfixed on the naked wolf covered only by a thin blanket. “Whoa, he’s fucking hairy.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Mike repeats the words Levi’s just used on him, and the raven-haired grins lightly.

“Guys!” Isabel calls from downstairs. “I wanna watch the new ‘Dracula’-adaptation. Are you gonna join me?”

“Fuck, yes!” Hange roars, instantly rushing downstairs as does Mike. 

It’s one of the coven’s most favourite things to do: Watching vampire movies and series. Because for one, the things humans come up with for vampires are so ridiculous that it’s the best sort of comedy for them to see – and on the other hand it is always interesting as well as important to find out which parts the humans have guessed _correctly_ ; probably with vampiric help…

“Hey, uh, Levi,” Farlan murmurs, walking closer to his maker. “I’m sorry about before…”

Levi smiles. “Don’t worry. I already forgot about it. I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, but—”

“I understand,” Farlan says, looking at the werewolf and then at Levi. “His situation is… similar to yours, and I was just angry and, uh, so…”

“As I said: Don’t worry about it,” Levi tells him, putting his arm around Farlan’s waist, leading him out of his room and into their newly created private cinema.

Levi checks on the werewolf throughout the movie, listening for his heartbeat and monitoring his breathing through the walls of the house thanks to his vampiric senses.

The film is nicely done. But a fairytale. One that makes the vampires feel slightly melancholic.

“Wouldn’t it be great to look at the sun just one more time?” Isabel muses as they stare at the end credits, listening to the ominous classical music playing along. “The _real_ sun?”

“You _can_ look at sun,” Farlan answers cheekily. “But truly only _one_ more time.”

“No talk about the real death,” Levi chastises softly, listening to the wolf’s still rather weak heartbeat. “Not tonight.”

“Let’s watch that new ghost series instead!” Hange suggests.

“You know that there is usually a lot of death involved in ghost movies, right?” Mike mocks them, smirking.

“Yeah, but not the _true_ death, asshole.”

Levi grins as his undead companions begin to fake-fight, snorting and laughing, enjoying their time together, their new home. Safety. Forgetting about the injured werewolf upstairs just for a while.

But Levi doesn’t.

He excuses himself, once the other coven members start the new series, walks upstairs to check the wolf’s wound, his temperature and everything else, inhaling that sweet and calming scent emanating from the creature.

“It’s definitely him, isn’t it?" Mike asks, appearing out of nowhere, bending down and sniffing the werewolf. “That strange scent. I was wondering where that was coming from.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” the vampire with raven hair murmurs, not at all fazed by Mike’s sudden appearance, able to register his children’s presence anywhere, immediately. “Makes you feel at ease, doesn't it?”

“N-No,” Mike scoffs, and Levi merely smiles softly at that lie. “I’ll be taking my leave. Sunrise is near.”

“Sweet dreams,” Levi says, and Mike scoffs again – and Levi now knows that this child was _not_ affected by whatever had affected Levi, made him dream, when vampires _don’t_ dream.

*

A few days later, the werewolf’s wound slowly begins to heal.

“Why does vampire blood actually _not_ work on werewolves?” Isabel wonders out loud, looking down at the creature still unconscious – though the wolf has started to emit a few sounds. Low groans, elongated moans, hisses. A sign that he’s trying to fight himself back into life, sounds of strength and determination.

“We don’t know that,” Levi reminds Isabel, actually shaving the werewolf’s face – because he cannot stand to look at that messy beard any longer. “We only know _that_ it doesn’t have a healing effect on werewolves, like it does on humans when applied on wounds.”

“Just like we know that drinking our blood will not turn them into one of us as it does with humans!” Hange joins the conversation, excited as always when it comes to facts and science.

"Oh yeah, didn't you once try to turn a werewolf?" Isabel remembers.

“Please don’t remind me of that story,” Levi utters, but he isn’t spared the historic tale.

The wolf had been an outcast, banned from his pack for slaughtering one of their kind and left unprotected, with broken bones, rendered completely useless, practically thrown at Levi’s coven, back then only including Hange and Mike, in hopes of the vampires ripping the criminal to shreds as punishment. Instead of killing the wolf, Hange, driven by their curious nature, pleading Levi until he finally gave in, fed the beaten werewolf some of their blood.

“You forced it down his throat,” Levi corrects the wannabe scientist retelling the story, and Isabel, at heart still the 17-year-old girl that she was when she was turned, giggles.

“He just vomited. Like. A lot.”

“I will never forget that smell…” Levi mumbles, inhaling the young pup’s fragrance that is the complete opposite of the putrid, sensory memory, and that soothes his nerves instantly.

“And that was it,” Hange concludes their experiment.

“Hange forgot to mention they tried this for a couple of _days_ , experimenting with the dosage of blood, trying mine and Mike’s as well,” Levi adds, rolling his eyes, remembering that hideous part of their history. “And the wolf’s wounds inflicted by his kind wouldn’t heal properly.”

“Levi had to kill him.”

“But it was merciful,” the raven-haired stresses. “Quick and painless. I felt sorry for him in the end, even though he _was_ a murdering bastard and deserved death for how many humans he had eaten, but—”

“A life is a life,” Isabel repeats her maker’s solemn words.

“Yes.”

Silence engulfs them as Levi washes away the residue of shaving foam from the young werewolf’s face.

“He’s quite the looker,” Isabel suddenly remarks, whistling, making Hange cackle. “Isn’t he, Levi?”

The coven leader sighs. There’s no point in lying. “He is,” he thus agrees, making both of his children cackle, at which he merely frowns.

“He smells a bit like roasted apples,” Isabel says, and Hange nods enthusiastically.

“Like lavender!” they say. “Right, Levi?"

“To me, he smells like... _so many_ pleasant things…” he confesses, sighing, and Hange is intrigued.

“Mike said the wolf-man smells like candied almonds,” they report, “and Farlan told me he smells like honey…”

“So, it’s different to each of us,” Levi concludes.

“Exactly!”

“Interesting…”

“I’d say: _fascinating_ ,” Hange replies, making a bad impression of Spock, which brings Isabel to giggle once more.

“Indeed,” is all that Levi says before he’s left alone with the wolf in his room again.

After a few more days, the wound is looking better, and while the wolf’s skin is still hot to the touch, he doesn’t seem to have a fever anymore. Though still unconscious and hooked to the IV, his expression changes, and the agonising, painful frown disappears, the blond wolf-man’s face relaxing instead. He looks almost at peace when Levi is shaving him again – because that damned beard of the wolf is growing crazily fast, as is the blond hair on top of his head, the fair strands now probably able to cover his pectorals, and Levi vows to cut it next, to make the wolf look less like a heathen wildling, as Mike and Farlan have begun to call their guest.

It’s when Levi’s back in his room with the scissors in his hand, that the wolf suddenly groans, and his eyelids move, revealing those unnatural, ethereal shades of blue Levi immediately wants to dive into, just like he did when he first saw them.

“Where… Where am I?” the wolf, looking at Levi, mutters – and his voice, though raspy and croaked, sounds like music to the vampire.

**Author's Note:**

> And here's the first [artwork](https://twitter.com/regularbrot/status/1323003968931450881?s=20)!
> 
> I am having trouble to embed it in the fic - we are working on this!


End file.
